


One For Sorrow

by LittleBuddy



Category: MASH (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt, Gen, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, I mean it's not much comfort but, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, not violent but lots of pain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:54:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27337495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleBuddy/pseuds/LittleBuddy
Summary: The Pierce-Hunnicutt household is adopted by local cat. Cue kittens and angst when things go wrong and Hawkeye has to handle it.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 16





	One For Sorrow

**Author's Note:**

> I've warned you that it's not a real pretty fic, but it is what it is. (also, why am I writing this instead of NaNo? Beats me.)

The cat had started showing up frequently, lounging around the yard as inconspicuously as possible. Hawkeye was reminded of a burglar scoping out the next hit - hanging around in the cool shadows of the rose bushes Peg had planted along the house, sitting on top of the car until moments before BJ left for work. It had no hesitation in approaching the youngest Hunnicutt, however. If Erin was anywhere in the vicinity, the cat was there, rubbing against her calves and being generally underfoot until Erin picked her up.

BJ noticed it before Hawkeye did. “The cat’s pregnant,” he told Peggy. They were eating breakfast, everyone but Erin dressed and ready for the day. Coffee was refilled, eggs scooped onto the bird-print plates. Orange juice droplets ran down Erin’s chin, joining the syrup trail that ran down her front.

“‘The’ cat,” Peggy said. “Why is it ‘the’ cat now? Almost sounds like it’s ours."

“I mean, it’s kind of ours.”

“‘Kind of ours’ in the same way that it’s kind of the whole neighborhood’s.” Peg smiled in a way that said _I may be a foot shorter than you but I_ will _fight._ BJ raised his hands, a sausage link speared on the end of his fork. 

“Peg, what is this? The Tabby Scare?”

“McCat-ysm,” Hawk offered. He sipped his coffee, pretending not to notice the glare Peggy fixed on him.

“Exactly. The cat’s done nothing to you,” BJ said. “It kills the mice.”

“We don’t have mice,” Peg said.

“Because of the cat.”

“If you feed it, it hangs around. Then it has kittens, and the kittens hang around. Then you have a neighborhood full of cats that are inbred and sickly - trust me.” Peg took a bite of her eggs, talking around them. “I grew up with enough promiscuous barn cats to know that it’s not pretty.”

“Hawkeye, what do you think?”

“Not much."

“I meant about the cat. Wouldn’t you say it’s cruel to withhold help from a pregnant, seemingly single mother?”

 _“Cat,”_ Peg murmured.

Hawkeye set his fork down and went to refill his coffee from the pot in the kitchen, distancing himself from the adults before delivering his answer. “I think you should let Erin decide.”

A simultaneous cry of _“Hawkeye!”_ from both Hunnicutt parents confirmed that he’d made a wise decision in exiting their field of reach. Erin, elbow deep in pancakes, cheered. “I can decide!”

“When you can pay for the food, you can decide.”

\--------

Erin might not have been able to produce any monetary contributions, but Hawkeye had a paying job - and now, a bag full of cat food. He tried to be somewhat sneaky - feeding the cat outside the garage each morning while Peggy was inside getting ready for breakfast. However, he wasn’t so motivated to conceal it that he tried to hide the empty tins he threw in the garage trash can. Besides - if she noticed, he’d just blame it on BJ.

\--------

“I can’t believe there’s a cat giving birth in my laundry room.”

Hawkeye grinned up at Peggy. Erin sat beside him on the floor, the two of them silent observers of the birth happening in the cardboard box across from them. When Erin had come running in, begging them to come out to the garden and see what the cat was doing, Peggy had quietly picked the cat up and brought it inside out of the cold. 

“BJ won’t believe it either,” Hawkeye said. The on-call doctor for the weekend, BJ had been at the hospital since just before lunch and there was no telling when he’d return.

Peg leaned against the doorframe. “It’s late. I’m gonna get ready for bed. Are you two-” Peg motioned at the box.

Hawkeye glanced at the clock. 12:13. “Oh yeah, we’ll stick around and wait it out.” He nudged Erin. “You want to, right?”

“Yes! I’m going to name them!”

The kittens came, quietly and without fanfare.

 _One._

“Nicholas.”

“That’s a sophisticated name for a yard cat.”

“Like St. Nicholas.”

“Santa?”

“He’s red and white.”

Hawkeye couldn’t argue with that one.

\-------

_Two._

“Your turn.”

“I have to pick a name?”

“Yep.”

“Dos.”

\-------

_Three._

“Stripes.”

“Stripes? But he’s spotted!”

“It’s funny,” Erin giggled. “Stripes!”

\-------

_Four._

“If it’s my turn again, how about Trouble?”

“Why?”

“She had a hard time with that one.”

\-------

At half-past three in the morning, Hawkeye was wondering if he should’ve bestowed a more pleasant name upon the kitten. 

Unlike it’s siblings, Trouble had a hard time finding a latch, taking ten minutes longer to sort it out than the other kittens. Even then, it nursed for a very short period of time before losing interest. The cat had padded to the back door, meowing until Hawkeye let her out. She hadn’t returned. The kittens had piled together and gone to sleep - all except the last one. A short while later, it took up crying, a high, pitiful wail that grated on his nerves.

Inspecting the kitten, Hawkeye noticed with dread a bulge in it’s stomach, a movable lump near the lower end of the stomach. The kitten seemed pained when he touched it, and lacked the warmth a newborn kitten should have. A growing sense of trepidation knotted itself in Hawkeye’s stomach. Peggy got up, the noise waking her, and brought them a dish towel. Hawkeye swaddled the kitten, and Erin took it from him wordlessly, sitting on the couch and petting it until they both fell to sleep. Peg took Erin to bed, and Hawkeye returned the kitten to the box.

Now, he’d been laying in bed listening to it cry for the last thirty minutes, unable to bring himself to do anything about it. What was there to do? There was one thing - but no.

The cat’s cries grew louder, and he couldn’t take it any longer. Hawkeye jerked the covers back, not bothering to pull a robe on over his boxers as he exited the bedroom, shuffling across the house to the laundry room. He stubbed his toe on the couch, cursing under his breath and feeling his way in the dark. 

When he picked the kitten up to inspect it, he could tell it wouldn’t be long before it died. Guiltily, he realized he felt relief. Cradling the kitten in his forearm, he held it close and made his way to the back door. He called for the cat. Besides a few warning barks from the neighbors dog, nothing materialized from the dark. Hawkeye shut the door and returned to the back room, sliding down to the floor and placing the kitten on the dish towel next to him.

The kitten was crying, now - mewling gasps, squeezed out with each labored exhale. He watched it’s sides go up and then down, wondering if he was imagining the slowing of breath. 

Fifteen excruciating minutes passed. The kitten had stopped making noise, expending all the remaining energy it had on each struggling breath. It twitched, cried, head jerking back before going lax again.

It was struggling, he knew. Killing it was the right thing to do - he could put it out of its misery and end the excruciating process of death. He didn’t want to - _where is BJ?_ \- but he could.

Hawkeye’s heart felt like a jackhammer in his chest, hands shaking as he reached for the kitten.

\------

“Hawkeye? What happened?” 

“Don’t… don’t bother. I had to.” Hawkeye sat on the floor, hands clasped tight around his shins, knees pulled up tight against his chest. “Had to.” 

Peggy stepped toward him, reaching tentatively for his bare shoulder. Hawkeye flinched away, shaking his head. “No! I had to. I had to. It needed me to.”

Stepping back, Peg retreated to the hallway phone.

“Operator? Get me Wilker’s Memorial Hospital please.”

\-------

BJ knelt beside Hawkeye, the cold tile biting through the thin fabric of his scrub pants. 

“Hawk?”

Hawkeye stopped rocking. 

“Hawkeye, it’s me. I’m here.”

Blue eyes lifted from the floor to meet BJ’s gaze. Peggy had filled him in when he'd arrived, meeting him at the car in her pajamas, panic written across her features. Still, Hawkeye's tear-streaked face managed to take him completely off guard.

“Hey.”

Hawkeye shook his head. “I had to, Beej.”

“I know, Hawk.”

“It was hurting, and I couldn’t just…” He choked on a sob, pressing his palms into his eyes. BJ scooted in, shifting to sit on the floor beside Hawkeye, pressing a cautious hand against the surgeon’s forearm. Hawkeye leaned into him, a boat coming into harbor with too much speed, crashing against BJ’s shoulder. BJ planted himself, absorbing the weight. 

“I didn’t mean for that to happen. I didn’t-”

“Hey, hey. I know.”

“I had to do it, I had to.”

“You did the right thing." He rubbed Hawkeye’s back in small, circular strokes. His eyes lit on the dish towel, wrapped around what he could only assume was the dead kitten. He closed his eyes, resisting the urge to swear, and pulled Hawk tighter.

“I couldn’t save it,” he cried. “I did it, Beej. I can’t believe I-” Hawkeye’s voice cracked. Abandoning all attempts to hold back the tears, he grasped a fistful of BJ’s scrub top, bending his head to rest in the neck of BJ’s coat while he wept openly. Sobs wracked Hawkeye’s body until, exhausted, he fell asleep.

They stayed there until the sun rose over the California skyline, painting the sky with brilliant color. With the receding darkness went the memories of the bus, the cries and the following silence. Dawn brought light, and with it, faint hope for a fresh day.


End file.
